Page 63 of The Fallen Man
“He takes care of you?” asked Jessica.
“No, of course not,” said Caitlin impatiently. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me. It’s just that he’s really… respectful, I guess, of my time and boundaries.” She felt safer when he wasaround. And definitely more relaxed after he got done with her. The past few weeks had been like a coming up from underwater and taking a big breath of air.
“And he’s picking you up tonight?”
“Yeah,” said Caitlin blushing. “It’s not a date or anything. He just made the excellent point that we could be naked faster if he drove. And he drives pretty fast, so… I’m here for it.”
Jessica laughed. “I think I like this guy.”
“Well, that makes two of us.” Caitlin felt relieved that Jessica wasn’t shoving some sort ofask for morenonsense at her.
They were mid-way through the night when Vince stopped by. “I clocked you out,” he murmured. “Rest of the night is cash.”
“You really don’t have to do that,” protested Katie, feeling grateful.
“You’ve hit your hours for the week. You’ll get the health care and I’ll pay you the time and a half in cash. You need the money and I don’t think you need anything else for anyone to seize.”
“I really appreciate it,” said Katie, with a sigh.
“How’s the tip jar?” asked Vince, craning to look at status.
“Good. It’s a good crowd. Couple of big tippers.”
“The servers say your peach champagne drink thingie is going over great,” said Vince. “I keep telling Angela to let you design drinks for all the events, but I’m not in charge of food.”
“It’s not a big deal,” said Caitlin. “I just like coming up with drinks.”
“I like it too,” said Vince. “Now we just need to figure out how to upcharge for the service of you using your brain powers.”
Caitlin laughed. “I’m not sure how to do that, but OK, you let me know if you do.”
Vince grinned. “This is business, kid. It’s what I do.”
Caitlin smiled and went back to the bar. Her signature drink was doing well, but there were still those who wanted something different. A woman approached. She was a flame-bright naturalredhead with a set of breasts that defied the standard fashion fit. Considering that she was wearing a pret-a-porter Reem Acra that meant it had been custom tailored for her.
“Hi,” she said her voice lilting into extra syllables that only a Southerner could find in a two-letter word.
“Hi,” said Katie. “What can I get you?”
“Um, well,” she hesitated, “Evan said,” she pointed to a lanky redheaded man on the far side of the room. “He said that if I begged for help and promised not to stab anyone with a toothpick, we could get better drinks.”
Katie burst out laughing. Evan was her shrimp cocktail wearing, extra good tipper who’d been contemplating toothpick murder. She had now seen him at several events and he’d continued to bribe shamelessly for better drinks. “Scotch two ice cubes for him, right?”
“Yes,” said the woman, looking pleased.
“What about you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t like any of the wine and I can’t drink it straight like he can.”
“Do you like whiskey though?” asked Caitlin, rifling through her mental drink index and comparing it with the ingredients she had on hand.
“Well, yes, but it gets awful heavy when it’s a whole glass.”
Caitlin nodded. “So you and Evan… I was working one of the Halloween parties that night. We all loved the lanterns.” She asked, nodding to the giant sparkling ring on the woman’s hand, while she began to mix her drink.
The woman laughed delightedly. “Wasn’t that amazing? He spoils me rotten. I do not understand how I got so lucky. Although,” she said, looking at the ring, “this still seems a little weird.”
“You’re going to let him tie you down, huh?”
